If Only
by LoveIsAzureBlue
Summary: A series of moments that could have ended in Fresley goodness had only one thing been different. AU obviously. Four to start but I may get inspired to write more as I re-watch the series. Rated M for later chapters. Disclaimer: Joss's amazing world... I'm just playing with it.
1. Ch 1 - If Only She Hadn't Walked Away

If Only

She Had Not Walked Away

(counterpart to Billy)

She was sitting on the round sofa, holding a bag of frozen peas over her swollen eye when Angel and Cordelia walked through the door of the Hyperion that night, their mission to destroy Billy complete.

"Fred! Oh my God!" Cordelia exclaimed upon seeing her.

"What the hell happened?" Angel asked just as animatedly. They rushed over to her.

"I'm okay." Fred answered, lowering the frozen vegetables, revealing the extent of her injuries. "Wesley got infected."

"Wes? Wesley did this to you?" Cordelia asked, pushing a strand of Fred's hair back so she could survey the damage to Fred's face.

"No… whatever Billy put inside Wesley is what did this to me." Fred answered. She was careful not to place any blame on Wesley himself. She knew he was as much a victim in this as she.

"Where is he?" Angel asked. Fred could hear the dangerous edge in his voice.

"Room 605… or just below it actually. I kind of knocked him through the floor. Gunn is there too. I locked them in."

"Gunn? He's infected too?" Angel asked, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see their bodies lying on the floors above.

"Yes… but I knocked him out before it really manifested so he didn't have a chance to hurt me. I hope I didn't hurt them too bad – especially Wes. I knocked him unconscious with a fire extinguisher and if you multiply the mass of the extinguisher by the velocity it was traveling at the time of impact, and then take into account that the human skull is only…"

"Fred. It's ok." Cordelia said, cutting short Fred's nervous rambling. "You did what you had to do to stay alive. Are you sure you're ok?"

Fred nodded.

"Cordy, take Fred to my room. I want you to lock yourselves in there and don't open the door again until I tell you. I'm going to deal with Wes and Gunn." Angel said, walking toward the stairs. "Fred, do you have any idea how long the Billy effect will last?"

"Based on the rate of mitosis observed in the slides, I'd guess no more than a few hours, tops. I'm willing to bet the effects are already wearing off."

"Never the less, I want you two far away from Wes and Gunn until we are sure they are themselves again. Cordy… take a sword, just in case."

"What about you?" Cordy asked. "Do you want a weapon?"

"It's best if I'm not armed." Angel said, his voice full of dark meaning. He began a purposeful ascent of the stairs.

"Angel!" Fred called. Angel stopped and looked at Fred. "Remember… it wasn't their fault. You know what Billy is."

Angel nodded but his eyes were cold and filled with purpose.

"Cordy!" Fred exclaimed in alarm, turning to Cordelia.

"It's ok, Fred. Angel will be able to handle himself. I think we should do what he said though. Let's go to his room and wait this out."

Cordelia grabbed a long sword from the weapon's closet and led Fred to Angel's bedroom. She locked the door and propped a chair against the handle for good measure. One of the best things about Angel's interior room – there was only one way in or out.

Once locked safely inside, Cordelia went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water. She returned to Fred and softly dabbed at the cuts on her lip and eyebrow.

"I want to know exactly how this happened. How did you know Wes was infected? What did he do?" Cordelia asked.

"I could tell something was wrong right away. Just by the way he snapped at me. Wesley would never talk to me like that… would never say the things he said." Fred said. Despite herself, she felt her eyes welling with tears. "It wasn't him, Cordy. I know that. But…"

"He scared you." Cordelia finished for her, empathetically. Fred bit her lip and nodded. Unable to hold in the weight of the terrifying evening any longer, Fred felt her face crumble as the tears began falling thick and fast from her eyes. Cordelia wrapped her arms around Fred, doing her best to comfort the sweet young woman who had survived so much in recent years, but was almost killed this night by someone she trusted.

After several minutes, a loud thud, the sound of a door slamming and heavy footsteps pacing back and forth somewhere upstairs finally drew the two women apart. After another minute, there was knock at Angel's bedroom door. Cordy grabbed her sword and approached the door cautiously.

"It's me, Cordy." Angel called through the door. Cordelia kicked the chair aside and unlocked Angel's door. She still gripped the sword tightly, just in case Angel wasn't alone.

He was.

"Where are they?" Cordelia asked.

"Gunn's locked in a maintenance closet on the 2nd floor. He was just gaining consciousness when I found him." Angel said.

"Is he alright?" Fred asked.

"He'll be fine. The effects of Billy's power haven't completely worn off yet so I wanted to keep him isolated for now." Angel answered.

"And, what about Wesley?" Fred asked, trepidatiously.

Angel cast Cordelia a meaningful glance.

"I think it best if we get Wesley to a hospital." Angel said, feigning nonchalance.

"Oh God!" Fred said. She began pacing back and forth, muttering to herself about the impact of high velocity objects on the human brain.

"Fred…it's going to be ok. You didn't do anything wrong." Angel said, placing himself in Fred's path.

"He's right, sweetie. You would probably be dead or worse right now if you hadn't have knocked Wes out." Cordelia consoled, wrapping an arm around Fred.

"I didn't have to use a fire extinguisher though. That was too much weight. I could have used a half-filled paint can or something with less mass." Fred said.

"Don't worry, Fred. Wesley will be fine. I'm going to drive him to the hospital right now and I'll stay there until I'm sure he's ok. I don't want you feeling guilty about what happened though, understand? You did what you had to and no one blames you." Angel said.

Angel walked out of his bedroom with Cordelia and Fred on his heels. Angel had placed Wesley on the round sofa in the middle of the lobby. He was still out cold and a huge bruise was evident over his right eye.

"Oh God." Fred said again, putting her hand over her mouth.

Angel picked up Wesley in a fireman's hold and walked toward the front door.

"Leave Gunn in the closet for a couple of hours to be sure the spell has worn off, and don't let him out without a weapon in hand." Angel said to Cordelia. Cordelia nodded in understanding. Without another word, Angel turned and was gone.

"Where… where am I?" Wesley asked. It was very, very early the next morning. The sun had not yet fully risen but Angel was not concerned. The room Wesley was in had no windows.

"You're in the hospital." Angel answered from the shadows where he had been standing, watching Wesley over the past several hours.

"What happened?" Wesley asked, wincing as he placed his hand up to his swollen and tender head.

"Well, as Cordy put it, you had some major mystical mojo done to you." Angel answered, walking over to the edge of Wesley's bed.

Wes looked at Angel with confusion for a moment which was quickly replaced by a look of abject horror as the memory of the previous night's events found their way to the forefront of Wesley's mind. He shot up in bed.

"Oh God! Fred! What have I done?" Wes cried, attempting to get out of the railed hospital bed.

"Whoa…easy!" Angel commanded, pushing a struggling Wesley back into the bed. "She's ok."

Wes looked at Angel and any anger the latter was feeling toward the former - no matter how displaced - dissolved. Angel had never seen any man look so genuinely remorseful and guilty in his very long life.

"Did I hurt her very badly?" Wes asked. His voice sounded desperate.

Angel shook his head. "She's got some bruises and a cut lip. Other then that, she's fine. She understands what happened."

"How can she ever forgive me?" Wesley said, looking at his bruised hands hopelessly, the memory of what he did making him feel physically nauseous. He had attacked Fred… tried to force himself on her… tried to kill her! Wesley had never before felt like such a horrible human being – less than a human being. If Angel wanted to kill him right now, he would not even object. He felt he deserved it.

Angel could see the horrible guilt tormenting Wesley by the look on his face. "I think you're going to have a harder time forgiving yourself." Angel replied, quietly.

Six days later, Fred found herself pacing back and fourth in front of Wesley's office. She knew he had been released from the hospital four days earlier, but he had not been back to the office and he had not answered any of the several messages she had left him. Cordelia told her that Wes was just having a really hard time facing what he did. Angel told her to be patient. Neither, Fred thought, really understood.

_Dearest Fred,_

_If I were to tell you I'm sorry every single day for the rest of my life, it still would not be enough to express the true magnitude of remorse I feel for how I behaved and what I did to you. There is no excuse for my actions and I do not expect you to ever forgive me. But, I want you to know..._

"Dammit." Wesley muttered, crumpling up yet another sheet of paper. This was his fourteenth attempt, since arriving home from the hospital, at writing an apology letter to Fred. She had called him numerous times and left him several messages, but he had not had the courage to pick up the phone. He wanted so much to tell her how sorry he was, but could not seem to find the words to express just how guilty he felt.

Wesley looked up at the window above his desk, his mind distraught with the repulsive memories of what had transpired six days before. He knew he had been under the influence of a powerful demon, but knowing now what sort of evil he was capable of turned his stomach to rot and made him question the very sort of person he was.

A soft knock at his front door brought him out of his painful reverie.

"Wesley? It's Fred." He heard her voice – her gentle Texas lilt that he found so endearing, and he knew he could not ignore her any longer. He owed her an apology – face to face.

Slowly, he rose from his chair and walked to the door.

She could hear his quiet sobs on the other side of the door and knew that no matter what she said, Wesley was not going to forgive himself for what happened. She had seen the look on his face - the guilt, remorse, sadness and self-loathing he was enduring. She turned to leave, feeling defeated.

"No." She told herself firmly, stopping before she reached the stairs. She was not about to walk away and let Wesley wallow in guilt. What happened wasn't his fault any more than it was hers. She knew Wesley would never, _could_ never hurt her of his own volition. He had been possessed by a demon. He had no control over what happened. She knew that. How come he didn't?

She knocked again softly but did not wait for him to open the door (fortunately, he had not locked it behind her). Instead she turned the doorknob and entered.

Wes's face was wet with tears as he looked at her in surprise.

"Fred… I…" But Fred did not allow him to finish the sentence. Instead she put her index finger in the air to quiet him. Then, standing on her toes, she leaned in and placed a soft, tender kiss on his lips.

When she backed away, Wesley was looking at her with an expression of utter shock. Was he imagining this? Was _Fred _now possessed by something? Surely, after the things he had said, the things he had _done_, she wouldn't just forgive and forget… would she?

"Please, Wesley. We need you… I need you… to come back." Fred said softly.

She took his hand and looked in his eyes. Since coming back from Pylea, she had not let herself get too close to anyone. After years of solitude and almost no contact with other humans, she was still protecting herself. Subconsciously, she feared being ripped from them again and being sent back to a place where she was worth no more than cattle. But looking in Wesley's eyes at this moment, she felt something stir inside her that she thought was long gone. It was a twinge she had not felt in a long time – a twinge of something deeper than friendship. She realized with a start that she liked Wesley in a different way than she liked Angel or Cordelia or Gunn. She liked Wesley in a way that made her feel butterflies in her stomach and caused her to not want to leave his side.

"Come back… come back to the hotel with me. Please?" Fred said, squeezing Wes's hand gently.

Wes smiled a little and nodded.

While Wesley was gathering up his keys and briefcase, Fred allowed herself to wander into Wesley's apartment. She had been here before, of course, but she had never really 'looked' at it. It was masculine in decoration, but soft somehow… comforting. Fred walked over to the desk and curiously looked at the many crumpled up pieces of paper scattered over the desk and nearby floor. She wondered what Wesley was working on so intently. She leaned over to pick up one of the pieces of paper on the floor and was startled when Wesley suddenly appeared, swooping up the disposed papers in a quick motion.

"I'm sorry about the mess." Wesley said, obviously trying to hide whatever was on those papers.

"Please. You're talking to the girl that used to write quantum equations out on her walls. A few pieces of paper are nothing. What were you working on, anyway?" Fred asked.

"Oh…um… well…" Wesley stuttered. Fred smiled and took one of the crumpled papers out of Wes's hands.

_Dearest Fred,_

_How can I express just how sorry I am? How can I tell you how terrible I feel… what a monster I am for what I did? There are no words adequate enough. I hate myself for what I became – for the power that that demon had over me. Please know that I would never, ever, intentionally hurt you. How could I? You are so sweet, and kind, and beautiful. My heart aches knowing that I hurt you..._

Fred read through the unfinished letter again slowly, allowing Wesley's words to wash over her – making sure she understood what they seemed to mean. Finally, she looked up from the unfinished letter, her eyes wide, a lump in her throat.

"Wesley." She said softly, her voice caught in her throat.

"I didn't know what to say." Wesley replied quietly, looking down at the floor.

"You don't have to say anything." Fred said softly.

She took a step to close the distance between herself and Wesley. Then, her lips were on his again, unreserved and more eager. In surprise, Wesley dropped the remaining crumpled balls of paper he was holding, the reality of what was happening striking him and he wrapped his arms around Fred's waist tightly, pulling her body close to his. She moaned quietly against his mouth and threaded her fingers through his hair to deepen their kiss. Every hurt – both physical and emotional – that she had felt six days earlier was replaced with the feeling of love and safety that enveloped her as she kissed Wesley.

When they finally broke apart several minutes later Wesley's look of self-loathing had been replaced by a look of wonderment. He gazed at Fred, gently caressing her cheek with the back of his hand.

"You are so beautiful." Wesley said. "I have never known anyone so lovely in both body and soul."

Fred smiled and Wesley felt some of his guilt dissipate. Against what he believed were impossible odds, she forgave him. And now she was here in his arms – a dream he dared not dream come true.


	2. Ch 2 - If Only They Were in the Wings

If Only

Fred and Wes Were in the Wings

(Counterpart to Waiting in the Wings)

"Do you think you can take him?" Fred whispered to Wesley. They were staring at the overlarge, piggish looking security guard thinking in vain of ways to get past him.

"I doubt it. Brute force is more Angel's strength." Wesley replied. "I think a better option is to outsmart him."

"Right." Fred replied. "Any thoughts on how?"

Wesley looked around the barren backstage entrance, searching for something to improvise a clever ruse. He did not want to resort to physical violence, but there did not seem to be many other options.

"Wait… I think I have an idea." Fred said. "I'll be right back." She ran up the stairs behind Wesley leaving him bewildered. A few minutes later, she came back with a half empty bottle of wine she had obviously just nicked from the Lobby bar.

"What's that for?" Wesley asked. Fred smiled and winked. She took a rather large gulp of the wine and purposely spilled a healthy serving down the front of her dress. Wesley then watched as she mussed her hair, took off one of her high heel shoes, and pinched the skin around her eyes so they looked red and swollen.

"What do you want me to do?" Wesley asked.

"Just cover me." Fred replied. "I'm winging it here." She had already begun staggering down the steps, gripping the bottle in one hand and her shoe in the other.

"Well lookie here! I'm in the backstage!" Fred slurred, exaggerating her Texas drawl. She stumbled about, feigning fascination with the backstage area, and spilled a bit of wine on the floor for good measure.

The security guard looked at her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Miss, I'm sorry but you can't be back here. You'll need to go back upstairs."

"Back upstairs? But I wanna see the ballerinas!" Fred drawled faking another swig from the bottle and starting a drunken little jig in front of the security guard. Wesley watched as she 'tripped' and fell against the security guard. "Whoo hoo! Look at the big man! My hero!" Fred drawled. And with that, she placed a slobbery kiss on the security guard's lips.

"Hey, you're kinda cute." Fred said, breaking from the man's lips and giving him a dazzling smile. "You wanna show me the rest of this backstage area? I bet there are some places we could get mighty cozy." Fred said, playfully running her finger along the guard's arm. Wesley, watching from the stairwell, was liking this plan less and less. But, he had to hand it to Fred, she seemed to know what she was doing and exactly what the security guard's weakness would. Wesley watched in disgusted disbelief as the security guard smiled lustfully at Fred and looked around surreptitiously.

"I suppose I could give you a private tour." The security guard said. Wes felt anger flaring in his chest when he caught the way the fat guard's eyes were sliding over Fred's body. "There happens to be a storage room where extra costumes are kept right around the corner. Do you want to try on some costumes for me?"

Fred let out a very un-Fredlike giggle and laced her arm through the security guard's. She took another swig from the bottle and allowed the Security guard to pull her along toward the far end of the room where a door marked "storage" stood. As soon as they were a safe distance away, Wesley quietly crept down the remainder of the stairs and followed the two as close as he dared. Fred was still playing her part well, stumbling and hiccuping like she was intoxicated, punctuated with nuzzles and snuggles with the guard so he wouldn't get suspicious. It took Wesley every bit of will power he possessed not to rush the Security Guard and beat him to a bloody pulp when he saw the foul fat man reach down and squeeze Fred's buttocks. Fred, however, convincingly maintained her act. She lightly pushed the man's hand away.

"Uh, uh, uh." She said. "You gotta let me try on costumes first."

When they reached the door, the security guard fished around for the keys on his belt while Fred feigned disinterest, continuing her act. Wes used the opportunity to sneak a bit closer. He wanted to be as close as possible just in case things went wrong. He did not want to give that snake of a security guard any chance to actually be alone with Fred.

"Ah ha." The security guard said, turning a key in the lock. Fred let out a squeal and clapped her hands.

The guard opened the door and took a step in. In one quick motion, Fred seized her chance. She raised the wine bottle and smashed it as hard as she could on top of the guards head. The guard's knees buckled and he fell to the floor – out stone cold. Wesley appeared right behind Fred.

"Well done!" He praised.

"Thanks! I took a year of theater in junior college." Fred replied dropping the bottle on the floor next to the unconscious guard. Together, the two pulled the security guard into the storage room and Wesley grabbed his keys. They locked the door from the outside on their way out of the room and sprinted for the backstage door.

"Are you ready?" Wesley asked. Fred nodded. He opened the stage door, and they entered.

It felt as though they had stepped back in time. The long hallway was lined with gas lanterns and a pervasive feeling of antiquated time hung in the air.

"This can't be right." Wesley said. He and Fred turned looked up and down the infinite hallway in fascination. Fred turned around and gasped.

"Wesley, where's the door we came in?" Fred asked. There was alarm in her voice and Wesley could see why. Where the backstage door stood less then a minute before, there was now only a wood paneled wall.

Wesley looked at Fred and she stared back, fear in her eyes.

"It's ok, Fred. We'll figure this out. We best look around to see if we can get some idea of what's going on here." Wesley said. He grabbed Fred's hand and together they began quickly walking the length of the hallway.

It was by some strange magical coincidence that they both stopped right in front of the Prima Ballerina's dressing room. They felt like they were being called to it… like the room was beckoning them to enter. Without a word, Wesley turned the door knob and they slowly stepped through the threshold.

The atmosphere of the room was strong and palpable. Fred could immediately feel it's effects – the warmth, the eroticism, the raw sensuality. Fred sat down at the dressing table and that feeling grew. Somehow, she was eighteen years old again – waiting for her lover to come to her and forge his body with hers.

Fred walked around the room slowly, finally stopping at the dressing table where the prima ballerina's make-up and hair pins sat, left by their owner before she went on stage.

"She would wait for him here." Fred said, running her fingers over the Ballerina's hairbrush. She looked at Wes's reflection in the mirror. She could see that it was him – only it wasn't him. It was Stefan, her secret lover. He was muttering about the warmth of the room.

"Wesley?" She said standing up. Wes turned his attention toward her. 'I want you to undress me."

"Wha… what?" Wesley asked, staring at Fred in disbelief, his eyes wide. Did he just hear her correctly?

"It's just another costume." Fred said, running her hand sensually down the side of her bare neck. "I want you to see who I really am. You're the only one who can." Wesley felt his heart quicken in his chest. Every desire and bit of longing he had ever felt for the woman standing before him was amplified. The urge to take her, to tear her dress off and make passionate love to her was overwhelming. Wesley swallowed hard. He knew this was wrong. This couldn't possibly be Fred – the shy, sweet young lady he had developed feelings for.

"This… this isn't us, Fred. This is someone else… someone is making us act this out." Wes stammered. Fred blinked and shook her head slightly.

"Whoa." Fred said, coming to herself. "Did I… did I just ask you to undress me?" she asked, a blush on her cheeks both from her arousal and her embarrassment. Wes took a purposeful step towards her.

"Is that what you want?" Wesley asked, the powerful spirit of the man who loved his prima ballerina completely taking control.

"Please." Fred whispered plaintively, the ballerina's spirit taking hold of her again. "I…"

"You want me to make love to you right here?" Wesley asked, one of his hands now caressing Fred's neck while the other found the small of her back and pulled her close.

"You know I do." Fred replied passionately.

"But you're afraid." Wesley whispered, his lips moving ever closer to Fred's.

"What if he finds us?" Fred replied. Her lips just barely tracing Wesley's.

"I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of anything." Wesley said intensely. Their breaths were coming fast and heavy now. Their eyes were closed, there lips mere millimeters apart.

"I'm only alive when you're inside me." Fred whispered. With that, Wesley's lips came to Fred's and he began kissing her deeply and passionately. He pulled her as close to himself as possible, their clothing forming an unwanted barrier between them. They were completely overtaken by the desires of the spirits embodying them. Wesley slowly began moving them toward the sofa in the middle of the room.

"This is wrong." Fred whispered against Wes's lips.

"Hush." Wesley responded, kissing Fred harder.

"You don't know him. - He has power." Fred moaned as Wesley lowered her onto the sofa and came to rest on top of her.

"The power to do this?" Wesley said, moving his hand to her mound and squeezing gently. Fred gasped in ecstacy.

"Stefan, his power is unnatural. He could..." Fred was now loosening Wesley's bowtie and working the buttons on his shirt.

"What? Kill us?" Wesley asked skeptically. Fred had now worked the last of his shirt buttons loose and slid the garment from his body.

"Worse." Fred said. She leaned up and kissed his chest softly.

Wesley took Fred's chin gently in his hand and angled it so he could look her in the eye.

"Kurskov owns the company. He doesn't own you." Wesley said softly. He lowered his lips to her neck and kissed her softly.

"He doesn't know that." Fred said, tears now gleaming in her eyes, her gentle Texas drawl being replaced by the hint of a Russian tongue. "He thinks I'm his. That I dance for him. He is nothing but a deluded fan. He thinks I love him."

"Come away with me. Now. Tonight. We'll disappear. Even he won't find us." Wesley said, softly pulling the hairpins from Fred's hair so it fell around her shoulders and face.

"I... - Stefan, everything I worked for is here." Fred said plaintively, her hands caressing Wesley's chest.

"You can still dance." Wesley said. He was now slowly working down the zipper on the back of her dress.

"Can I? I don't... Not yet. - Maybe when we're..."

"Don't. Don't make promises." Wesley said intensely, pausing in the act of undressing Fred.

"Help me. - Help me be not afraid." Fred pleaded.

Wesley worked the zipper the remainder of the way down Fred's back and pulled the silky fabric away from her body, baring her breasts. She moaned as his lips caressed her neck, then worked their way down her body. He kissed her exposed flesh gently and she was completely overrun with desire. She wanted nothing more then to feel Stefan inside of her.

"Stefan." She whispered, her eyes closed in ecstasy Wesley continued to kiss her breasts, her abdomen, migrating down to her most intimate areas.

"Wesley." Fred moaned. Her eyes immediately shot open. Saying his name – his real name – broke the spell. "Wesley!" She cried, coming back to herself. She kicked Wesley (who was just in the act of unzipping his slacks) off of her and he fell to the floor. Wesley looked at her with an expression of hurt, then confusion, then utter shock. Fred hurried to pull her dress up before she was overcome again. Already, she was feeling a desire to help Wesley lose the pants.

"We've gotta get out of here." Fred said, jumping from the sofa, her Texas drawl now back. Wesley looked slightly punch drunk.

"Yes… of course. This…This is wrong." Wesley replied. Fred could not help but notice the hard lump at the front of Wesley's now re-zipped pants and it scared her how much she wanted to let it free – especially because she wasn't exactly sure who she wanted anymore – Stefan or Wesley.

Wesley began backing toward the door, but before she could help herself, Fred had wrapped herself in Wesley's arms, kissing him furiously again. They stumbled toward the door, entwined in each other's embrace, Fred finally bumping against it with her back. This only intensified their actions, however. Wesley used the door as a brace to hold Fred against as he began tugging her dress up. Fred moaned, her hands groping furiously at Wesley's pants. They were both breathing heavily against each other's lips, lost again in the spell the room had put them under.

A turn of the doorknob, a scream as they fell through to the hallway, Wesley landing on top of Fred, a gasp from Cordelia and a surprised expletive from Angel broke the spell.

Wesley, quickly realizing the compromising position they were in, pushed himself off of Fred, who was doing her best to pull her dress back down. Wesley was doing his best to hide his bulging manhood.

"DON'T GO IN THERE!" Wes and Fred cried together as Angel and Cordelia began stepping toward the door.

"The room is cursed! There seems to be some sort of residual haunt going on. The spirits possessed me and Fred." Wesley said quickly.

"Possession? Is that what they're calling it now days?" Cordelia said with amusement.

Wesley stood up and helped Fred to her feet. They were both very red and doing their best not to look at each other.

"Well, we have to figure out what's going on so we can stop it." Angel said.

"Kurskov!" Fred exclaimed, remembering suddenly the dialogue that had taken place between her and Wesley when they were enchanted. "He's responsible. He's in love with the prima ballerina and has cursed her somehow so she will always be his – always dance for him. Angel, that's why you recognize her! It _is_ the same ballet you saw in 1890!"

"Alright…" Angel said, agreeing instantly with Fred's realization. "I'm going after Kurskov. You guys stay here. We ran into some nasty… uh…"

"Minions!" Cordelia screamed.

"Yeah, minions, on the way to finding you guys and…"

"No! Minions!" Cordelia cried again pointing behind where Angel and Wes were standing side by side. Two sword wielding masked men – one bearing a smile, one a frown – were upon them in seconds. Wesley and Angel, having no weapons of their own, launched an offensive using the only weapons at their disposal - their fists. Angel, with his super human strength, successfully knocked out the 'comedy' minion within a minute. But, Wesley, with no weapon with which to defend himself, was no match for the armed 'tragedy' man. Before Angel could throw himself into the fight, the masked man drew his sword sharply along Wesley's abdomen.

"Wesley!" Fred screamed as Wesley crumpled to the floor, blood pouring from the wound.

"Hey!" Another voice yelled. Fred looked up in time to see Gunn arrive, sword blazing, and stab the tragedy man through the heart. To her astonishment, she watched as the downed masked men stood up as though impervious to their wounds and then begin to replicate.

"Uh oh." Fred said. She was frantically working at Wesley's wound – attempting to stifle the flow of blood with her shawl.

"Angel!" Wesley yelled from the floor as Cordy, Gunn and Angel all readied themselves for battle. Angel knelt down next to Wes. "You must find Kurskov! Find whatever power he's using to keep the ballet going and destroy it! It's the only way to stop them." Wesley said, gesturing toward the now half-dozen masked minions.

"What about you?' Angel asked.

Wesley looked down as his abdomen, Fred's shawl wrapped firmly around it, then at Fred. There was such worry and fear in her eyes. He just wanted to reach out and hold her – comfort her.

"It's just a scratch." Wesley said bravely. "Give me a sword."

Angel and Fred helped Wesley to his feet and Angel handed Wesley a long broadsword.

"I'll end this as quickly as possible!" Angel said. He took off down the hallway.

Fred grabbed a heavy piece of railing – a discarded prop no doubt – and stood next to Wesley. Cordelia and Gunn were already engaged in battle with the minions who fortunately, despite their presumed invincibility, we not very skilled fighters.

A minion charged at Fred and Wesley, and they hit it simultaneously, Fred knocking it over the head with the rail and Wesley running it through with his sword.

The fighting continued for several more minutes, with more than one near misses for all involved. Then, suddenly, the masked men dissolved in front of their eyes.

"What? What happened?" Cordelia asked.

"Angel. He must have found Kurskov." Wesley said.

"Wes? You ok, man?" Gunn asked, noticing Wesley's pale face.

"I just need... to sit down." Wesley said, collapsing.

"Wesley! Oh, God!" Fred said, dropping down next to him. Her shawl, she noticed, was drenched through with blood.

"Gunn and I are going to go find Angel and get some help. Fred, stay here with Wes." Cordelia commanded. Fred nodded, unable to speak because of the tremendous knot in her throat.

Cordelia and Gunn ran off the same way Angel had while Wes propped himself gently against the wall of the hallway. Fred placed a hand on the location of Wesley's wound and applied firm pressure. Wesley winced.

"I'm sorry. I'm trying to apply pressure to stop the blood." Fred said shakily. There were tears in her eyes which she was trying to hide from Wesley.

"Fred? Are you alright?" Wesley asked. Fred let out a pained laugh.

"You're the one bleeding and you ask _me_ if I'm alright." Fred replied. She laughed again, but it quickly dissolved into a sob. "I thought… I thought he stabbed you."

"Fred." Wesley said softly, brushing a strand of hair back from Fred's face. "It's just a scratch. I'll be fine."

"I don't know what I would have done if you…" Fred started, her voice breaking.

"Shhh… hush." Wesley soothed as Fred broke down. Fred buried her head in the crook of Wesley's neck while still applying pressure to the wound with her hand. Wesley put an arm around her and held her tightly. They stayed like that until help finally arrived.

"Wesley? Can I come in?" Fred's voice called through the door to the room at the Hyperion where Wesley would be spending a few days. Cordelia had insisted Wesley not spend his first few days out of the hospital at his apartment alone lest he try to do too much for himself and rip any of the dozen stitches holding his abdomen together.

"Of course." Wesley called back from the bed, looking up from the book he was reading on demonic possession.

Fred opened the door. She was holding two mugs in one hand. Wesley caught the scent of English tea.

"I thought you could use something hot to drink." Fred said, walking over to Wesley and handing him one of the mugs.

"Thank you." Wesley replied. "Please, have a seat."

Fred sat down on the chair adjacent to the bed where Wes was propped up, surrounded by books.

"What are you working on?" Fred asked, glancing at the pile.

"Oh… I was just researching some information on possession… spells that would cause them and such."

"Oh." Fred said. An awkward silence fell between Wesley and Fred. Fred sipped her tea loudly while she and Wes avoided each other's gaze. She wanted to talk to him, to tell him that she felt something that night – something outside the possession. But, how could she admit that? And what if Wesley didn't feel anything back? That would just be embarrassing and devastating.

"Well, I should go." Fred said after a few more minutes, rising suddenly, determined not to humiliate herself by broaching this subject with Wes. "You probably need to rest. Twelve stitches is nothing to fool around with."

Fred stood, turned and walked purposefully toward the door.

"Fred…" Wesley said. She stopped and turned around. He was looking at her desperately. "I... um... would you stay a little longer?" Fred exhaled slowly and walked back toward Wesley's bed. She sat down on the edge of it and looked at Wesley.

"Fred, I don't want things to be uncomfortable between us. What happened at the ballet… well… just remember that it wasn't us. You were the prima ballerina and I was Stefan. I can only imagine the horror you felt when you had that moment of clarity and realized who was… with you." Wesley looked down in embarrassment.

"No!" Fred cried. Wesley raised his head, a surprised expression on his face, and looked in Fred's soft, brown eyes. "No… I mean… It wasn't horrible being... with you. It was just… well… surprising, you know? If that were to ever happen with us… I mean, if we – the _real_ we - were ever in that situation… I just didn't want us to do anything when it wasn't really... _us._" Fred stammered. She did not even realize she was slowly leaning closer to Wesley. "But, it definitely wasn't horrible." She said quietly, now only inches from him. "Was it horrible for you?"

Wesley swallowed hard. "Not at all." He replied softly.

Fred placed her lips on Wesley's and she kissed him gently. They pulled apart momentarily to gaze at each other, and seeing the mutual desire in each other's eyes, their lips met again. They kissed sweetly but passionately, the feelings they felt for each other finally laid bare.

They continued on like this for several minutes before a niggling voice in the back of Wesley's head got the better of him.

"Fred… maybe we shouldn't do this." Wesley moaned while dropping his lips to Fred's neck. "We might be under some sort of residual effects from the…"

"Wesley." Fred cut him off.

"Hm?" Wes said.

"Shut up." She said.

"Ok." Wes agreed and placed his lips to Fred's again.

They remained in each other's embrace for several more minutes before finally breaking apart – both of them breathless. They kept their arms around each other though and gazed in each other's eyes, both smiling softly.

"Do you really think this is still some sort of effect from the spell?" Fred asked Wesley softly, her fingers tickling the back of Wesley's neck.

Wesley shook his head.

"The way I feel about you, Fred… it's much stronger than any spell, and much stronger than what Stefan felt for his Prima Ballerina." Wesley answered honestly. Fred smiled.

"I know what you mean." Fred replied.

Wesley smiled too and leaned in to place a sweet, soft kiss on Fred's lips again.

"I was wondering if you would like to go out with me on Saturday night." Wesley asked.

Fred grinned.

"I'd like that." She said.

They spent the rest of the day curled up together in Wesley's bed, discussing date ideas. Neither needed to say it, but the ballet was decidedly off the table.


	3. Ch 3 - If Only She Hadn't Left with Knox

If Only

She Had Not left with Knox

(counterpart to Lineage)

"He was threatening your friends."

"He was threatening _you_. He pointed a gun at you, Fred, so I shot him."

Fred's eyes welled with tears as she took in the meaning of what he was saying, the magnitude of what his actions meant. She felt confused. She knew Wesley had feelings for her, but she thought it was a crush, like she had had on Angel when he first rescued her from Pylea. And then there was Lilah – who was absolutely nothing like her. How could he be with someone like Lilah and want someone like herself?

But the fact remained - he had shot the thing he believed to be his father without a second's hesitation because it pointed a gun at Fred. Would he have done that if it were Angel, or Gunn in her position… if it were Lilah?

"Wesley...I..." Fred stuttered, really having no idea what she was going to say. What could she say? _Are you in love with me? _That was the only question that came to her mind.

At that moment, Knox walked up to the door.

"Hi." He said. Fred turned around, not exactly happy to see him and that reflected on her face. Knox quelled a little under her expression. "Oh, sorry to... interrupt. I... but... Fred, you're injured. I know we're supposed to work ourselves to death and all, but I'm guessing that the firm isn't enforcing that rule as strictly as it used to. And I thought I was gonna take you home." Knox said.

"Um, well, I... Wesley and I were just..." She stuttered, attempting to give Knox a gentle brush off.

"Go." Wesley said softly, looking at her. "You should go." But his words did not reflect the desperation in his eyes… the need to talk to Fred, to have a friend close by. Fred had abandoned him once before when she should have given him the chance to speak. She had no intention of doing that again. Fred turned back toward Knox.

"I'm Sorry, Knox." She said. "But, I have some things I need to finish up with Wesley."

Knox looked disgruntled. "Oh… ok, then. See you tomorrow, I guess." He said. Fred nodded and turned back to Wesley who looked extremely surprised.

"You didn't have to do that." Wesley said, quietly.

"I know. But I feel like you need a friend right now. I feel like you need me." Fred said.

A ghost of a smile flitted across Wesley's lips.

"You want to go get some dinner?" Fred asked. Wesley nodded.

Fred turned and walked out of Wesley's office, Wesley following, his own mind a jumble of emotions he could not understand. What he had told Fred was absolutely true – he had shot his father (or the Cyborg that he believed was his father) because it had threatened Fred. Until that moment, even he did not realize how much he cared for her… how much he loved her… and how foolish he was for never telling her.

Wesley stopped walking. It was dark in the lobby. It was late and everyone else had gone home. Fred turned around and looked at Wesley, who was standing still, his brow furrowed – his eyes dark. He looked anguished – like someone who wanted to confess something to a priest.

"Wesley?" Fred said walking back toward him, concern in her eyes.

"I should have told you..." Wesley said, quietly. "…long ago."

"Told me what?" Fred asked.

Wesley looked up and met her eyes.

"That I don't just have arbitrary feelings toward you, Fred. That what I feel for you isn't a crush. It's always been very much more." Wesley said.

Fred looked at Wesley, a knot in her throat.

"What… what are you saying?" Fred asked in a strained voice.

Wesley lifted his right hand and placed it very gently on Fred's cheek.

"That I'm in love with you." He said. His voice was thick with emotion, his eyes dark and sincere.

Fred inhaled sharply, her head spinning.

So, he did love her… of course. She supposed she had always known. Only she had refused to admit, or recognize, that that was how he felt. She had ignored his feelings so completely that she was rendered speechless by Wesley's confession – had absolutely no idea how to respond to his profession of love. But, she realized it was because _she_ had no idea how she truly felt about _him_. She loved Wesley, sure… as a friend. But, she was not sure if she was _in love_ with him. There were times, though, when she had been working with Wesley on research or a spell that she found herself daydreaming about what could have been if she had allowed herself to succumb to his subtle advances, maybe gone out to dinner with him some time. Truth be told, when they first met, Fred was attracted to Wesley – but, he was so sophisticated, and she had just spent five years living as a piece of livestock... She couldn't remember how to be in a relationship with someone so intelligent and debonair so she ignored her feelings for him. Subconsciously, she felt he was too good for her. Then she had fallen for Charles and let herself be caught up with his juvenile romanticism. Then Wesley betrayed Angel and all of his friends (even though he thought he was doing right), and had that torrid affair with Lilah. But, he still came back when he was needed… was still there to help Angel and Cordelia and her even though they had given him no reason to. He was the one who brought Angel back from the depths of the ocean even though Angel had tried to kill him. He had searched for Cordelia when she had gone missing and participated in the spell to bring back her memory. He had helped Fred exact revenge on the professor that had sent her to Pylea. And, tonight, Wesley had killed his 'father' without a second's hesitation because he had tried to hurt her. Despite everything, Wesley was always _there_ for her_._ So loyal. So caring.

"Wesley… I…" Fred started. She what? Wesley gazed into her eyes – his blue ones so intense and honest – and Fred felt something stir inside her. Was it desire?

She was too confused, could not think straight with Wesley's blue eyes gazing at her so passionately. Fred backed away from Wesley's hand and took a seat on the base of the stairs that led up to the offices. She put her head in her hands and tried to make sense of the million emotions and desires that were racing around in her brain preventing her from forming a coherent thought.

"I'm sorry." Wesley said. Fred looked up. She did not even realize she was crying.

"For what? Being honest… or waiting so long to be honest?" Fred said. She could not quite keep the accusatory bite out of her voice. Wesley looked down at the floor, ashamed and wounded.

"For both, I suppose. I told you because I need you to understand why I did what I did tonight." Wesley said.

"You mean killing your father?" Fred asked, more gently this time. Wesley nodded.

"I didn't want you to think I was just a cold blooded killer who would shoot his father down without a second thought. What I did… it was a reflex to you being in danger – knowing what he could have done to you." Wesley said.

Fred nodded and looked down at her lap, still trying to get a bearing on her emotions. Wesley took a few steps toward her.

"Look, I know you don't feel that way about me. And that's… fine. Your friendship is…"

"Wesley, will you please not presume that you know how I feel about you?" Fred said quietly. The fact that Wesley assumed that his affections only went one way was insulting. But, then again, how could he think otherwise? She had not exactly ever given Wesley a chance romantically. Why wouldn't he assume she simply was not interested?

Fred shook her head as though clearing it, but actually, everything was starting to fall into place in her mind.

"I'm sorry, Wesley. I'm just trying to make sense of everything." Fred said. "I'm trying to make sense of how I feel." She finished quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She was realizing things, admitting things about her feelings for Wesley that she had not dared allow herself to think before.

Fred stood up and walked to Wesley. She looked deeply into his haunted blue eyes. They stood there and gazed at each other for a minute, words escaping them. Fred felt like she was seeing Wesley – really seeing him – for the first time. She understood now how much he loved her, and she now realized that she felt something powerful for Wesley, too. She did not know if it was love – not yet. It was more the feeling that she was _falling in love _with him_. _Being the consummate scientist, she realized she was attracted to Wesley on an intellectual, emotional and physical level – in other words, on every level of her being.

Acting on instinct, her mind still swirling as she let her newly discovered feelings for Wesley fill her up, Fred leaned in a placed a soft kiss on Wesley's lips. When she backed away, Wesley was looking at her in wonder.

"Fred, I…" Wesley started.

"Shhh." Fred said, softly placing a finger over Wesley's lips. "Let's just try this first."

She leaned in again and put her lips to Wesley's once more, a little firmer this time.

It did not take but a moment for the kiss to escalate, for their lips to work against each other with a little more urgency. Wesley's arms wrapped around Fred's waist and Fred pressed herself against him, wrapping her unslinged arm around his neck. They kissed passionately, deeply, honestly. The intensity of the kiss spoke a thousand words – expressed so many things that either had yet to say to each other. When they broke apart several minutes later it was as though they were seeing each other unbarred and unhidden for the first time. And they both realized they wanted each other, needed each other, loved each other.

Wesley reached up and placed a gentle palm on Fred's cheek which he stroked gently with his thumb.

"I don't much feel like going out tonight to be honest. Would you… would you like to come over to my apartment for dinner? We can order in?" Wesley asked. Fred swallowed the anxious knot in her throat. She knew the implications of going to Wesley's place on a night when they were both feeling so vulnerable.

"I… I'm not sure that's such a good…" Fred started.

"No expectations, Fred, I promise. Just dinner." Wesley said. Fred could see the sincerity in his eyes. She nodded.

Wesley took her hand in his and together they exited Wolfram and Hart.

They spoke very little on the way to Wesley's apartment, their minds still swirling with the events of the night. Fred wished she could hold Wesley's hand while he drove, but her arm was still in a sling and it would have been awkward to try to grasp his hand with her other. So she sat quietly, her free hand in her lap as they drove the short distance to Wesley's apartment, stopping at a Chinese food place on the way to grab some take out.

Wesley's apartment was just as Fred remembered – stylish and masculine. While Wesley gathered some plates and silverware from the kitchen, Fred laid out the mu shu pork, fried rice and eggrolls.

'Would you like some wine?' Wesley asked.

"Please." Fred answered. These had been the first words they had spoken to each other in five minutes. Both were feeling awkward in light of that evening's confessions. Yet, neither wanted to leave the other's company.

Wesley walked over to the table carrying the plates and utensils in one hand and two wine glasses in the other, a bottle of Cabernet tucked under his arm. Fred took the plates and set them on the table while Wesley opened the wine. He poured them both a generous amount. _Liquid courage_, Fred thought.

The wine did seem to help loosen them up. During dinner, they talked a little about work – some of the more difficult and unwholesome cases they had been recently working. Wesley also revealed a little more about his relationship with Emele.

"Did you know how deep his connections were?" Fred asked after Wesley told her about ordering custom made weapons from him when he was estranged from Angel Investigations.

"I would like to say no… the truth, though, is that at that time, I didn't care." Wesley answered candidly.

Fred was silent for a moment.

"It was a bad time for all of us, Wesley. But I can't imagine how lonely it was for you." Fred said, quietly. She reached across the table with her good hand and grabbed Wesley's. Their eyes met and something poignant and tangible passed between them.

"I… I'm sorry that I wasn't a better friend during that time." Fred said quietly. "Especially after you saved my life."

Wesley squeezed Fred's hand.

"What's past is past, Fred. Let's leave it there." Wesley whispered. Fred nodded and stood up. Wesley did the same.

They stood looking at each other for a moment, neither speaking, just gazing in each other's eyes.

"It's getting late. Maybe I should head home." Fred said, not really wanting to leave but not knowing what else to say.

"Please… stay for a little while longer. I… I don't really want to be alone just yet." Wesley said, his eyes pleading. Fred nodded and caressed Wesley's cheek with her hand.

Fred and Wesley proceeded into Wesley's sitting area where they sat on the sofa together – Wesley leaning back against the arm of the sofa, his legs resting on the coffee table while Fred rested her head against his chest. He pulled an afghan over them and they watched reruns of StarTrek until they both drifted off to sleep – still in each other's arms.

Fred awoke very, very early the next morning. The sun had not yet risen and it took her a moment to remember where she was. She looked around the dark room and saw a trifecta of swords on the wall above an oak dresser. It was then that she rememberd she was still at Wesley's. She also realized she was in his bed. Fred pushed the blankets off of her and sat up. She was still fully dressed, only her shoes were gone. She exhaled in relief. The last thing she remembered was watching Star Trek with Wesley. She must have drifted off to sleep which meant he must have carried her in here. But, then, where was he?

Fred made to get out of bed when she noticed a folded t-shirt on the chest at the foot of the bed with a note resting on it. She reached out and picked up the note which read:

_Should you want to sleep in something more comfortable. -W_

She smiled at Wesley's thoughtfulness and gratefully slipped out of her day clothes and into Wesley's shirt. It was a soft cotton material and fell to her thighs, and it smelled heavenly. She inhaled deeply, her eyes closed, and wrapped her free arm around herself, imagining that it was Wesley holding her. She opened her eyes realizing she could do more than just imagine.

Fred walked over to the bedroom door, opened it quietly and stepped out to the living room.

Wesley was lying on the sofa, sleeping soundly, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing an old gray t-shirt and a pair of sweats. The afghan they had wrapped up in together the previous night was in a pile on the floor.

Fred smiled softly, realizing that Wesley must have carried her to the bed before coming out here to sleep so he would not make her uncomfortable. He was always such a gentleman. It was one of the things that endeared him to her.

Fred tiptoed over to Wesley and ever so gently caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. Wesley stirred and his eyes flitted open.

"Fred? Are you alright?" He asked, looking at her groggily.

She reached down and took his hand in hers.

"Come with me." She said. Wesley got up from the sofa and let Fred lead him into the bedroom. She stopped before the big bed and looked at Wesley.

"Will you sleep with me, Wesley?" Fred asked quietly. Wesley nodded, knowing there was no euphemism or double entandra in her question. She was not asking to make love to him… she actually wanted to sleep next to him.

Wesley climbed in bed and laid down and Fred scooted in beside him. She laid her head down on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank you for the shirt." She whispered.

"Of course." Wesley replied, kissing the top of her head.

They were asleep again within a matter of minutes.


	4. Ch 4 - If Only There was no Illyria

A/N: This chapter is the reason for the "M" rating. Enjoy.

If Only

She had not been taken by Illyria

(alternate to A Hole in the World)

"But, that doesn't make any sense." Fred said to Lorne, pondering the hypothetical that Angel and Spike had spent the entire morning arguing about.

"I just call it like I see it." Lorne reciprocated, now thoroughly bored with this subject.

"But the cavemen have fire. That's what they live with in their caves. The astronauts should at least have some sort of weapon…" Fred stopped her diatribe when she saw Wesley walking up the stairs toward them, looking dashing in a black turtle neck and black slacks, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Hey there." Fred said, smiling at Wesley broadly. She had been doing that every time she saw him lately. It was a reflex.

"I was just on my way to thinking of an excuse to come and see you." Wesley said, smiling.

"And how is that working out?" Fred asked coyly, still grinning.

"Really great. Where are you coming from?" Wesley asked.

"Oh, medical. This old sarcophagus opened in the lab when I was checking it out. Fortunately, I backed away before it expelled any old mummy air. Still, best to make to make sure I didn't discover any new germs." Fred explained.

"You alright?" Wesley asked, concerned.

"They shooed me right off. Mummy free." Fred said, smiling.

Wesley smiled and took a step closer to Fred. "Good. I was hoping to take you out tomorrow night, and I don't feature you wrapped in bandages."

"Take me out where?" Fred asked, grinning widely.

"Can it be a secret?" Wesley said wryly. Fred raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, sheesh." Lorne said suddenly, stepping between them to walk down the stairs. "Get a balcony, you two, huh?"

"You'll still find me for lunch, though, right?" Fred called after him.

"I'll just look where the sun shines." Lorne said, grinning at her. He started down the stairs singing, "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."

"You make me happy, when skies are grey." Fred finished quietly, smiling at Wesley. Lorne stopped at the bottom of the stairs, grinning. If what he just saw in Fred's aura came to pass, Wesley and Fred were in for one heck of romantic evening tomorrow. Lorne turned his head and looked at Fred. She caught his stare out of the corner of her eye and turned to look at him. Lorne winked at her mischievously, then went on his way.

"I wonder what was that was about?" Fred said.

"Maybe he saw us having a fantastic time tomorrow and didn't want to spoil the surprise." Wesley said.

"Well, I'm definitely intrigued." Fred said.

Wesley looked around surreptitiously before leaning in and placing a short, but passionate kiss on Fred's lips.

"See you later?" He said, pulling away and brushing an errant strand of hair out of Fred's face.

Fred nodded, smiling. "Definitely." She said.

Wesley placed another quick kiss on her cheek, then continued up the stairs. Fred watched him walk away… she liked the view of his rear end.

Fred was up with the sun on Saturday morning, too excited about that evening to sleep. She needed to go shopping. Wesley still had not told her where they were going, but when she pleaded with him to at least tell her if she should dress up, he nodded slyly. He was going to pick her up at five, which she figured was too early for dinner, but she knew he knew her well enough to feed her sometime that evening so she gathered there was going to be some pre-dinner activity –though what, exactly, she had no idea. She wondered if Wesley was going to take her to a movie, but that seemed so cliché. And he would not have told her to dress up if it was just dinner and a movie.

Fred busied herself cleaning her apartment that morning, racking her brain with guessing games of what could be in store for that night. She dusted and vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom and changed her sheets, putting on her best Egyptian cotton ones. She blushed a little knowing why her subconscious chose that set.

After the apartment was perfectly spic and span, Fred ate a breakfast of instant waffles, eggs, a low-fat strawberry yogurt and a banana. Then, she hopped in the shower, taking extra time shaving her legs, underarms and bikini line (again, blushing because she knew why she was taking such extra care). After she was squeaky clean and smooth, she threw on some yoga pants and a t-shirt, hopped in her civic (which, thankfully, was running today) and headed for the mall.

Not since her death was Cordelia's absence so pronounced. Fred was at an utter loss as to which dresses were too fancy and which were not fancy enough for a surprise date. After a few hours and several dozen dresses, Fred finally deferred to the expertise of a sales girl in a small boutique specializing in evening wear. It was a simple, burgundy, open back slip dress that fell just above her knees. A vine of black embroidered roses worked its way up the fabric from the hem to the spaghetti straps which slipped gracefully over her shoulders. It was a very pretty dress, a little sexier than Fred would have pictured herself buying. But the dress was extremely flattering and it brought out her eyes.

After finally finding her frock, Fred splurged and bought a pair of strappy black heels, a matching shawl, and a new clutch purse, as well as a pair of very pretty imitation garnet earrings that matched her dress perfectly. She inwardly chastised herself for spending so much money for a date. _But, this isn't just any date_, she reminded herself, _this is Wesley_. Wesley, who had had feelings for her for so long but did everything he could to suppress them so she would not feel pressured or uncomfortable while her heart figured out what it wanted.

Fred's thoughts turned to Gunn for a moment. She had loved him, of course, but it was different – young somehow. They did fun things together – went to cheap diners and Dodger games, and the sex was good, but they really had very little in common. Moreover, he didn't stimulate her intellectually. Wesley did. She could talk to Wesley about physics theorems and complex mystical equations, and he _got_ it. He was older – only a few years in age but much more in experience. This had been a rough year for him and she knew he was still haunted by the recent past. But, underneath, he was still Wesley – smart, funny, attractive Wesley. He respected her, admired her mind, and brought out the mature, intellectual side of Fred that she felt she had to keep stifled while dating Gunn. She just wished she had realized it sooner.

Her wallet quite a bit lighter than when she had left her apartment that morning, Fred returned home to start getting ready (after a quick stop at Tito's Tacos for a bit of lunch). Fred hung her dress from her bedroom door frame and deposited her other purchases on her bed. Then she went to her bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.

"Oh no." Fred said, staring at her straight brown hair in the mirror. Panic hit as she realized she had bought a dress that practically necessitated an up-do, yet, other than a ponytail, she really had no idea how to do one. She thought back to the lovely, intricate curls Cordelia had fashioned on Fred's head when they went to the ballet. She seemed to recall a lot of bobbypins and hairspray, and a curling iron – but she didn't really remember how Cordelia wielded those tools to produce the finished result. Panic rising in her throat, Fred began digging through her bathroom drawers, digging out bent bobby pins and unearthing bottles of hair product that had long since congealed closed. Fred put her hands up to her cheeks in exasperation and glanced at the clock. It was already 1:30.

Fred bolted for her purse and grabbed her cell phone. She began thumbing through the numbers, but other than her mom and a few girlfriends back in Texas, there were decidedly few female names in there. She came across Harmony's name but decided to keep scrolling. Sure, Harmony was 'reformed', but Fred was still uncomfortable with the idea of inviting a vampire (without a soul) into her home. Fred continued scrolling through the list of names… her desperation mounting.

"Lorne!" She exclaimed, coming upon his name. Of course! Lorne! If anyone could help her with this desperate venture, it was him. She dialed his number and held the phone up to her ear.

"Hello?" Lorne's groggy voice said from the other end after three rings.

"You're sleeping!?" Fred exclaimed in exasperation.

"Well, not anymore." Lorne said grumpily. "It was a late night last night. Anyway, what's up Fredikins. I seem to be detecting a slight shrill of desperation in your voice."

Fred quickly explained the situation and practically begged Lorne to come over and help.

"Easy, kitten. I'll be over in twenty minutes, curling iron in hand." Lorne said before he hung up.

Fred spent those twenty minutes lying out her dress, shoes, and jewelry on her bed, then digging through her underwear drawer looking for the pair of lacy black panties she had bought on a whim a few weeks before but never had an opportunity to wear.

When Lorne finally arrived at two, bags of styling tools in hand, she practically dislocated his shoulder pulling him into her apartment.

"You gotta calm down, peaches. Your aura is all abuzz." Lorne said, rubbing his arm.

"I know, I know, I'm just excited. I mean… it's my first real 'date' with Wesley! Wesley, Lorne!" Fred said.

"Yes… it's Wesley… the guy who has been totally smitten with you since day one. So it's not like you need to impress him – he's already plenty impressed with you and I'm willing to bet that if he showed up at your door tonight and you were wearing your oldest sweat pants with your hair in curlers, he'd still think you were beautiful." Lorne said, putting an arm around Fred's shoulders. She took a deep breath, feeling instantly calmer.

"Thanks, Lorne." She said.

Lorne placed a kiss on her forehead. "Now… go put on a button up shirt that you won't have to lift over your head and leave the rest to Lorne." He said. He began rummaging though the bags he had brought, extracting bobby pins, curlers, and various products for shine, curl, hold, and everything else you could imagine. Feeling confident in Lorne's capable hands, Fred threw on an old button down shirt that once belonged to her dad and took a seat at the kitchen table where Lorne had set up his mini salon. He worked fast and precisely, twisting Fred's hair up into an elegant french twist, allowing some tendrils to curl around her face and neck. When he was finished, he went the extra mile, doing Fred's makeup for her – keeping it light and natural, but using different shades of brown shadows to bring out her eyes. At quarter to five, Fred's transformation was nearing completion.

"Ok Cinderella, time to slip on the gown and slippers." Lorne said, pulling Fred up from the chair by her hand.

"Lorne, I have no idea how to thank you!" Fred said, embracing him.

"Just let me be here when Wes walks through the door." Lorne grinned.

"Of course!" Fred exclaimed. Just then, Fred's phone chimed. She picked it up to check the text she had just received.

_Be there in ten_, it read.

"Ah!" Fred squealed. "I gotta get dressed!"

"Well, go peaches, go!" Lorne said, scooting Fred toward the bedroom. "I'll let in Mystery Man when he shows up."

"Lorne." Fred said, looking at him sincerely. "Thank you."

Lorne smiled.

"My pleasure, Fredels." He said.

Fred closed her bedroom door and dashed over to her bed. She quickly took off her yoga pants and the button up shirt. She changed her underwear, replacing her cotton bikini's for the sexy black thong, and stepped into her new dress, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric as she pulled it up her body. Once in place, she stood before the mirror and turned around so her back was facing it, craning her neck around so she could see the effect of the up do on her naked back. Fred smiled happily. The hairstyle Lorne had picked complimented the plunging back of the dress perfectly. Fred turned around and placed her new earrings in her ears and slipped on the strappy heels. Then, she stood before the mirror and admired the end result. Fred couldn't help but feel pretty. More than that – she felt sexy. She placed her hand up to her neck and stroked it gently with her fingers. She closed her eyes and imagined it was Wesley caressing her, causing a heat to flare within her. She really hoped Wesley liked the dress.

A knock at her front door broke her lustful reverie. Fred took a deep breath.

Lorne opened the door to a dashingly dressed Wesley holding a bouquet of fresh white roses tied with a pink bow. The smile slipped off Wesley's face and was replaced with one of utter confusion.

"For me? They're lovely." Lorne said, throwing up his hands in mock astonishment.

"Umm." Wesley said.

"Don't worry, Prince Charming. I'm just here helping Cinderella get ready for the ball. Los Angeles is decidedly low on Fairy God Mothers this time of year." Lorne said, stepping aside and gesturing Wesley inside.

"Is she alright?" Wesley asked, looking toward the closed bedroom door.

"Oh yeah… she's fine. I think you'll be pleased with just how fine she is." Lorne said.

"I'll be right out, Wesley!" Fred called from the bedroom.

"Well, look at you!" Lorne exclaimed, admiring Wesley. Wesley was wearing a deep blue silk shirt that brought out his eyes, a black blazer and black slacks. He had shaved and looked cool and confident. "Mmm, mmm, mmm… James Bond has nothing on you." Lorne said, shaking his head. Wesley blushed slightly.

Just then, Fred opened her bedroom door and stepped out.

"Hi, Wesley." She said.

Wesley stared at her, so taken with how beautiful she looked that he was momentarily unable to speak. He walked over to her smiling, drinking her in.

"You look… stunning." Wesley said. He leaned in and kissed Fred lightly. She smiled, then noticed the white roses he was still holding.

"Are those… for me?" She asked, emotion in her voice.

"Of course." Wesley said, handing her the bouquet. She held them up to her nose and inhaled deeply, eyes closed, letting the smell bring back a thousand happy memories from her childhood.

"How did you know?" She asked, opening her eyes which were now glistening with tears.

"You told me." Wesley said. "Last April. We were out on a job and the house had the flower bed filled with white roses. I remember you stood there smelling the blossoms. You said they reminded you of springtime at home when the roses in your family's backyard would bloom."

"I can't believe you remember that." Fred said, trying not to let her eyes overflow. She didn't want to ruin her makeup. She leaned in and kissed Wesley deeply, completely forgetting that Lorne was still in the room until his applause drew her attention.

"Oh, Bra-vo." Lorne said, clapping and smiling widely. "That was more romantic than _Casablanca, Titanic _and _Gone with the Wind _rolled into one." Fred and Wesley pulled apart and she giggled. "Alright, I got what I wanted… I'm off. You kids have fun! Be good… but not too good." Lorne said winking, opening the front door.

"Thanks again, Lorne!" Fred called after him. He gave a little bow, waved, and closed the door.

"I got what I wanted?" Wesley said, eyebrow raised. Fred laughed and walked to the kitchen where she pulled a vase out of a cupboard and filled it with water.

"He wanted to be here when you arrived. I guess he wanted to see your reaction." She said, blushing a little as she set the vase on her dining room table and put the roses inside. Their sweet aroma was already filling up the room.

"Of course he did. Lorne loves the dramatic and he knew I would be completely awestruck when I saw you. Which I am." Wesley said. Fred turned toward him and smiled softly. Wes placed the back of his hand gently against Fred's cheek. "My God... Just when I thought it wasn't possible for you to be any more beautiful." He whispered. He wrapped Fred in his arms and captured her lips with his, kissing her deeply and passionately now that Lorne was gone.

Their kiss lasted several minutes, growing in intensity until Fred found herself pressed against her front door, her leg snaking up Wesley's.

"We should go." Wesley said breathlessly, his lips dropping to Fred's neck.

"Are we going to be late?" Fred asked, not actually caring in the least.

"Probably, but a more pressing concern is that I don't think we're going to make it out of the apartment if we keep this up." Wesley said. Using every ounce of will power he possessed, he pulled himself away from Fred, breathing heavily, a very obvious erection under is slacks. She sighed in disappointment, blushing at her nearly unquenchable lust.

She giggled.

"Maybe I should have met you… where is it we are going again?" Fred asked, trying to sneakily uncover their date location. Wesley shook his head and smiled.

Fred grabbed her shawl and clutch bag from her bedroom, applied a fresh coat of lip gloss, and followed Wesley out the door. He had parked in front of her building and he opened the car door for her – an old-fashioned gesture that she loved.

Fred's hands shook slightly in anticipation as Wesley drove West on the 101. They chatted comfortably on the way, mostly about work and the Caveman vs. Astronaut argument Angel and Spike had been in all day (both Wesley and Fred came down on the side of Cavemen). After about twenty minutes, Wesley exited the freeway at Kanan Dume – a windy canyon road that led directly to Pacific Coast Highway.

"Ah ha… so I'm guessing our location is the beach." Fred teased. Wesley smiled.

Twenty more minutes down the winding road and another ten on PCH before Wesley made a right turn onto small private road. An ornate, wrought-iron arch framed the road and a weathered wooden sign that said "Malibu Botanical Garden" swung from the peak. Fred's interest was piqued.

A few minutes later, Wesley parked in a small parking lot atop a hill among many Mercedes, BMWs, a Bently and a Ferrari.

Fred smiled at him. "I'm intrigued." She said. Wesley kissed her gently and opened his car door. He walked around to her side and opened her door for her again, this time putting his hand down to help her out.

It was a lovely evening, but Fred was happy she had remembered her shawl as the ocean air was brisk and chilly. Fred looked around. A number of other couples were walking up a short path toward what Fred assumed was the entrance to garden. Wisteria hung lazily from the wrought Iron gate.

Wesley popped the trunk of his car and extracted two blankets and a small picnic basket. Fred felt her heart going pitter patter in her chest, the romance of the scene totally overwhelming. Wesley walked over to Fred and held out the arm in which he wasn't cradling the blankets and picnic basket. Fred laced her arm through his and together they walked toward the entrance.

As they got closer, Fred distinctly heard the sound of string instruments being tuned. She squinted her eyes and looked at the flyer pinned in the glass case next to entrance. She could make out the words _Malibu Chamber Orchestra _and _an Evening with Bach. _They got to the entrance where they were greeted by a friendly young docent wearing a black skirt and white shirt. Wesley let go of Fred's arm momentarily and extracted two tickets from his jacket pocket which he handed to the docent. She thanked him and stepped aside. Wesley looked at Fred and put his hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her through the entrance to the gardens.

The scene before Fred was breathtaking.

"Wesley." She breathed, taking in the indescribably beautiful scene before her. The botanical garden was much bigger than it looked from the outside. Yards of lush green grass lay before her, ringed on each side by paths which led to distinct gardens of roses, jasmine, Azaleas, daffodils and every other flower imaginable. The air was permeated with the sweetest aroma of early spring. Off to her right, Fred could see a crop of cherry trees edging a coy pond, their blossoms just opening. Before her, cutting through the grass where a number of people had set up picnics, a stone walkway led to gazebo entwined with hundreds of sparkling lights. These lights also illuminated the numerous blossoming pear trees that dotted the lawn surrounding the gazebo. Underneath these whimsical trees, small wrought iron tables and chairs for two were set up, complete with white tablecloths, white place settings, real silver cutlery and candle lit lamps. It was to one of these tables that Wesley was leading her.

When they reached a table with a direct view of the gazebo where the chamber orchestra was setting up, Wesley stopped and held out a chair for Fred. She sat down, surprised that the chairs were cushioned and quite comfortable. She looked at the table and saw a small reservation card with gold calligraphy that read _Reserved, Wyndham-Price. _Fred grinned. She felt so elegant.

"Do you like it?" Wesley asked, taking a seat across from her and putting the basket and blankets on the ground next to the trunk of the tree.

"This is amazing." Fred said, her voice barely above a whisper. Wesley smiled. He leaned down and opened up the picnic basket. He produced a bottle of Pinot Noir and a number of small white boxes which he opened to reveal a variety of different sushi and sashimi from Fred's favorite Sushi place. Fred could not stop smiling.

Wesley pulled a wine opener out of the basket and uncorked the bottle of wine. He poured a glass for Fred and himself, then lifted his glass to toast. Fred lifted hers as well.

"To our first date." Wesley said.

"It's long overdue." Fred finished. Wesley clinked his glass delicately against hers and they both took a sip. It was delicious.

Silence fell upon the gazebo and Fred glanced up to see the musicians getting in the ready position. With a signal from his body, the first violin led the Orchestra into the Brandenburg Concerto, movement one. Fred smiled. She remembered her mom playing this on the piano when she was a little girl.

Fred and Wesley spent the next hour enjoying the chamber orchestra's homage to Bach as they ate their fill of sushi and sashimi. At intermission, Fred excused herself to the restroom to freshen up. She was literally glowing with happiness. This had, by far, been the most romantic evening she had ever spent and it wasn't even close to being over (in her mind, at least).

When she returned from the restroom, Wesley had moved the table aside and laid out the blankets under the tree – the wine glasses resting against the trunk. Fred knelt down on the blanket and Wesley handed her her glass of wine.

"Are you having a nice time?" Wesley asked.

Fred shook her head, no. The smile slid from Wesley's face.

"I'm having the most incredible night of my life." Fred said sincerely. Wesley smiled again. As the orchestra started up their music, Wesley leaned back against the trunk of the tree and gestured for Fred to join him. She tucked herself between his legs, lying back against his chest. Wesley wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes – breathing in her scent. It had been a very long time since he felt so happy and at peace.

A chilly coastal breeze had begun to blow lightly across the garden and Fred shivered a bit, her dress and shawl not providing much protection against the night air.

"You're cold." Wesley whispered, rubbing her goose-fleshed arms with his hands.

"I'm alright." She said, refusing to let anything get in the way of this magical night.

"Here…" Wes said, gently pushing against Fred so he could remove his jacket. He placed it around Fred's shoulders. Wesley's warmth instantly enveloped her and she breathed deeply, enjoying the subtle scent of his cologne that clung to the fabric. Wesley leaned over and folded the edges of the blanket over Fred's bare legs. She smiled appreciatively.

"Better?" He asked, catching her eyes.

"Much." She said. Wesley sat back against the tree and opened is arms to her again, which she instantly scooted back into. He wrapped his arms around her and held her to him, her back resting against his chest, his cheek resting gently against her hair. The chamber orchestra had resumed their performance, playing Bach's slower and more romantic compositions. Fred allowed herself to become completely engrossed in the moment, all her senses heightened, experiencing a thousand wonderful things at once – the feel of Wesley's arms around her, the smell of his skin mingling with the night-blooming jasmine, the hauntingly beautiful sound of _Air on the G String_ coming from the gazebo, the hundreds of twinkling lights draped in the trees which gave the garden a fairytale feel in the darkness. Fred smiled softly and closed her eyes, turning her head slightly so her cheek was resting against Wesley's neck. Wesley tightened his hold on her and kissed her softly on the cheek, his lips lingering against her skin. Fred opened her eyes and turned her head so she could look at Wesley. He was gazing at her, his eyes full of love. Fred raised her hand to Wesley's cheek, guiding his lips to hers. He kissed her softly and sensually. Fred pulled herself into a kneeling position and turned her body so she could wrap her arms around his neck. She placed her lips to his, kissing him fully and with abandon. Wesley's hands snaked beneath the coat she was still wrapped in and connected with the bare skin of her back. She gasped, her body tingling like a live wire at his touch. She wanted to feel his hands all over her. Fred pressed herself closer to Wesley and parted his lips with her tongue. She could not bring herself to care that they were still in public (albeit, concealed by shadows now) and Wesley obviously didn't either. He pulled his lips from hers only to work his way down to Fred's neck and collarbone. They were both breathing heavily, completely consumed in the moment.

"Take me home." Fred whispered breathily in Wesley's ear as the last notes of the concerto were played and applause broke out.

Wesley pulled his lips from Fred's neck and looked at her, his eyes intense with want. She smiled slightly and nodded, reassuring Wesley that he had heard correctly and was not misinterpreting what she wanted. She wanted him, ached for him.

Fred stood up and picked up the picnic basket while Wesley quickly gathered the blankets, holding them strategically in front of the bulge in his pants. They joined hands and walked quickly to his car where they spent several more minutes entwined, their lips pressed together and tongues dancing. It was only due to the constraints of their public location that they did not pull each other's clothes off right there. Instead, Wesley opened the car door behind Fred and she collapsed into the seat, her body aflame.

It took much less time to arrive at Fred's apartment then it would have had Wesley driven anywhere near the speed limit. Instead, he skillfully raced down the canyon to the Freeway, where he confidently tipped the speedometer past ninety. Fred slipped off Wesley's jacket and cracked her window, allowing the cool night air to rush over her face in an attempt to quell the fire that raged within her. It was completely useless, especially when Wesley put his hand on her thigh and ran his fingers gently to her knee. Fred bit her lip in ecstasy, willing herself not to beg Wesley to pull over. Instead, she fished her house key out of her purse, ready for a speedy entrance.

When Wesley pulled up in front of Fred's apartment and threw the gearbox into park, they exited the car simultaneously and were wrapped in each other's embrace before they were even halfway to her front door. Wesley kept his arms around Fred's waist, kissing her neck while she fumbled to unlock her door, her hands trembling with anticipation. When she finally got it open, she and Wesley stumbled inside, their lips finding each other's again as he kicked off his shoes. Not breaking their kiss, Wesley lifted Fred up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom, setting her gently upon her quilted bedspread. Fred pulled off her heels and threw them next to the closet. She then kneeled on the edge of the bed and worked at the buttons on Wesley's shirt, wondering how much he'd mind if she just ripped it off him. She stemmed the temptation, finally working the last button loose and slipping his shirt off. She was surprised at how firm and muscled his chest was. His work clothes left a lot to the imagination and Fred had not imagined Wesley was so… toned. She smiled and ran her fingers over the planes of his chest, dropping her lips to his shoulder and pectoral muscle. Wesley closed his eyes and wrapped his arms gently around Fred, sighing with pleasure at her gentle touch.

While she kissed his exposed flesh, Fred's fingers worked their way down to Wesley's belt, which she deftly unbuckled before finding the button and zipper on his slacks. Wesley opened his eyes and found Fred's. He gazed at her with unbridled desire as she pushed his slacks off his waist and they fell to the ground, leaving him in only his black boxer-briefs which could not quite contain his bulging manhood.

Wesley took Fred's hand and gently pulled her into a standing position. He kept his eyes on hers as he pulled the spaghetti straps of her dress off her shoulders and allowed the garment to fall to the floor, pooling at her feet. His eyes roved her body, drinking in her slight curves and milky flesh.

"You are so very beautiful." Wesley said, closing the gap between them with a small step and placing the back of his hand to her cheek. He placed an excruciatingly tender kiss on her lips, her neck, her collarbone, her breasts before he knelt before her and, while kissing her stomach, hooked his fingers in her black lace underwear and pulled them from her body.

Fred was breathing fast now, her body on fire again. Wesley continued to kiss her abdomen, his lips going lower and lower while his fingers traced a path from her ankle, up her thigh, to the warm wetness between her legs where he caressed gently.

"Wesley…" She whispered, his name a plea on her lips. Her legs felt weak under the intensity of his gentle touch.

Wesley stood up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body to his. Fred ran her hands down the sides of his abdomen until she found the waistband of his boxer-briefs. She hooked her thumb in them and gently worked them down, careful not to hook his very prominent erection in the process. Now naked, Wesley placed another tender kiss on Fred's lips before he cradled her in his arms and slowly laid her back on the bed, his eyes locked on hers. He came to rest on top of her. She could feel his manhood at her entrance and ached to feel him inside her.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted you – how long I have loved you." Wesley whispered, his eyes still locked on hers. There was such sincerity in his gaze and his words that Fred's eyes filled with tears.

"Make love to me." She whispered, her voice catching with emotion. A tear escaped from her eye and Wesley kissed it away before placing his lips to hers again. As Wesley kissed her, he slowly guided himself into her.

Fred gasped in ecstasy and pulled Wesley close, wanting to become one with his flesh. She placed her lips to his feverishly and moved her hips in time with his movements to deepen the sensation. Wesley moved slowly, deeply, while he looked in Fred's eyes, only breaking his gaze when he leaned down to kiss her lips, her neck, and anywhere else that his lips could reach. He was so much better than Fred had hoped or imagined – an exceptionally skilled lover. He treated her body like it was a precious treasure, kissing her and caressing her in all the right places while he worked inside her and brought her to climax once, twice, three times before finally allowing himself release.

Afterward, sweaty and blissfully exhausted, Fred and Wesley collapsed next to each other, Wesley on his back, Fred on her stomach, her arm draped over Wesley's chest. They were both breathing heavily. Fred glanced at the clock on her nightstand. It was nearly one in the morning.

"Wow." Fred said, recovering her breath enough to speak.

"I agree." Wesley replied, turning on his side to face her.

"If I had known we're _that_ good together, I would have gone out with you a long time ago." Fred teased.

"Now you tell me." Wesley laughed, leaning in and placing a kiss on her lips, then threading his hand with hers.

They lay in the dimly lit room, gazing at each other, both of them savoring the passionate high of what had just taken place.

Fred looked at Wesley inquisitively, remembering something he had said.

"You told me you loved me." She said softly. Wesley smiled a little.

"I did." Wesley replied, taking his free hand and stroking her hair which had fallen out of it's delicate twist.

"I didn't say it back." Fred said.

Wesley furrowed his brow a little.

"That's alright." Wesley said, though his eyes betrayed slight disappointment. "I don't want you to feel pressured or…"

"I love you, Wesley." Fred whispered, cutting him off. He smiled and so did she, scooting over so she could lie atop him. She rested her head against his chest, her leg draped over his lap. Wesley put his arms around her and closed his eyes. They fell asleep in each other's embrace, feeling more alive then either had in a very long time.

Next morning, Fred awoke to a knock on her front door. She was lying on her back in bed next to Wesley, who was lying on his stomach, his hand resting gently on her forearm. She smiled and decided to ignore the door. After all, it was Sunday and it was not even nine yet. Fred closed her eyes and snuggled a little closer to Wesley – careful not to disturb his slumber. He looked so peaceful.

The knock sounded at the door again, this time a little firmer. Wesley stirred, but his eyes did not open. Fred furrowed her brow and slid out of bed. She threw on Wesley's button up shirt which was lying in a heap on the floor, and grabbed a pair of panties out of her dresser before exiting the room, closing the door behind her. Another knock sounded on the door and she could hear voices arguing softly just outside. Fred glanced out the peep hole and saw Angel's profile. He was arguing animatedly with Spike.

"What the…?" Fred said quietly, undoing the deadbolt and chain. She opened the door a crack.

"Fred! Oh good, you're up! We need a scientist's rational immediately. Can we come in?" Angel said.

"Oh… I, ummm…" Fred stuttered, glancing at her bedroom door, beyond which Wesley was sleeping and where she longed to be again. Spike and Angel looked at her expectantly.

"Yes, fine, come in." Fred said reluctantly, holding the door open for them. They pushed against each other as they entered through the threshold, evidently in some sort of battle of wills.

"Alright, Fred. You gotta answer this once and for all!" Angel exclaimed as Fred closed the door quietly.

"Answer what?" Fred asked. "And why are you yelling?" Spike was looking at her suspiciously, then his eyes grew wide as Wesley's smell reached his hyper sensitive nose.

"You know what, Angel… I'm thinking this might not be the best time." Spike said, a guilty expression coming over his face.

"Oh, of course not, Spike… because you know you're _WRONG_." Angel said. He turned his attention back to Fred.

"Cavemen or Astronauts?" Angel said.

"What?" Fred asked, annoyance seeping into her voice. Did they really interrupt her first morning with Wesley for this?

"Who would win in a duel? We need to know once and for all." Angel said.

"You come over to my apartment at nine o'clock on a Sunday so I can settle a hypothetical debate?" Fred asked.

"Angel, I'm telling you, this isn't the best time!" Spike said a little more forcefully.

"No, we need to have this settled. I can't handle your childish, thoughtless arguments for Cavemen anymore!" Angel said.

Spike smacked his hand over his eyes in exasperation and shook his head.

"You git… take a whiff." Spike said quietly. Angel looked at Spike in puzzlement, then inhaled deeply. His eyes grew wide as he picked up Wesley's scent all over Fred.

Just then, the bedroom door opened and Wesley strolled out wearing his slacks, but no shirt as Fred had commissioned it as her own.

"Sorry, Angel. I tend to agree with Spike. If the astronauts don't have weapons, the Cavemans brute strength would inevitably overpower the astronauts." Wesley said rationally, coming over to stand behind Fred. He placed his hands gently on her arms and she instinctively leaned back into him.

"Oh… I… um…" Angel stuttered. "Hey, Wes… and Fred. Wes and Fred?"

"You didn't know?" Spike asked in disbelief.

"I didn't know." Angel affirmed, shuffling his feet in embarrassment.

Fred tilted her head and looked up at Wesley, a small, affectionate smile on her face.

"So…" Angel said, still shuffling his feet. Fred and Wesley looked at him expectantly. "We'll just get out of your way then." Angel said, stumbling over his feet as he backed toward the door where Spike was waiting. "Sorry to have… just… sorry."

He turned and exited. Spike shook his head and gave Wesley and Fred a sly smile.

"Good on you two. It's about bloody time." Spike said. With that, he left the apartment.

Fred giggled and turned around so she was facing Wesley. Smiling, she wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his around her waist.

"Good morning." She said.

"Good morning." Wesley replied, a genuine smile on his face. He leaned in and kissed Fred passionately on the lips.

When they broke apart, Fred rested her cheek against Wesley's chest, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

"How did you sleep?" Fred asked. "I know it's not the most comfortable bed in the world."

"Wonderful. But I think even a bed of nails would be comfortable if I were sharing it with you." Wesley said. Fred smiled and lifted her head. She met Wesley's eyes, which were a bright beautiful blue this morning – reflecting the sheer happiness Wesley felt inside.

The smile slipped slightly from Fred's lips as she looked at Wesley intensely.

"I love you, Wesley." She said, her eyes on Wes's. Wesley returned Fred's sincere gaze.

"I love you, Fred. I have loved you since I've known you. I think maybe even before." Wesley said.

Fred smiled and her eyes welled with tears at Wesley's words. Never had anyone said anything so romantic to her.

Fred raised an eyebrow slightly and gestured toward her bedroom. She entwined Wesley's hand with hers and led him to the bed where they made passionate love again. After, Fred lay on Wesley's chest, quite content to spend the rest of the day in that spot. Wesley's eyes were closed, but he was running his fingers slowly up and down her spine so she knew he was awake. They did not speak… neither felt it was necessary. All they really needed was the other by their side…

For the rest of forever.


End file.
